Screams, cries, and moans of agony tore across the broken landscape. A brutal war raged—humanity fighting for survival, and supernatural forces clashing for pride.
The air hung heavy with the stench of copper, smoke, and rotting corpses. In the distance, burnt villages smoldered beneath a sky choked with ash. The muffled weeping of separated children was lost beneath the rhythmic thunder of explosive magical artillery shaking the earth from both sides.
“Arthur!”
A tall, rugged man roared through the chaos, his hands a blur as he exchanged high-level offensive magic against an oncoming horde of demons.
Sssssss… BOOOM!
Sssss… BOOOM! BOOOM!!
Spells collided in mid-air, raining shockwaves over the settlement. Stray blasts shattered the remaining homes, instantly burying terrified citizens beneath tons of burning rubble.
A few moments later, a young man cut through the billowing smoke. He was drenched in dark demon blood, his clothes caked in white rubble dust, but his hands blazed with a brilliant, volatile light. With fluid precision, he hurled a barrage of golden fireballs, incinerating the nearby demons into ash.
“Father!” Arthur called out. His hands remained a glowing blur of embers as he sprinted toward the rugged man, his chest heaving.
“We have to get out of here,” Arthur breathed, scanning the chaos. “There are too many of them.”
His father turned. Despite the bloodshed around them, a hopeful smile broke through his weathered face. He reached out, planting a firm, heavy pat on Arthur’s shoulder.
“Arthur,” his father said softly, yet firmly. “If we don’t stand and fight, then who will protect the people we cherish? The world we call home?”
Arthur stared at him. Gradually, the violent crackle of the golden flames died down, vanishing into nothingness. He reached out and grabbed his father’s wrist, his grip desperate.
“I lost my mother the day I was born,” Arthur said, his voice cracking with a rare flash of vulnerability. “I can’t lose you too. Let me get you to safety first, then I’ll return to the line. I can protect everyone—you just have to trust me.”
Before his father could utter a word, the universe seemed to fracture. The ground bucked and rolled violently, throwing off their balance. A massive explosion thundered from the horizon, followed instantly by a piercing, unholy screech. The sound was sharp enough to shatter glass and tear at their eardrums. As the echoing scream died down, a suffocating, dense wall of black smoke erupted from the blast zone, swallowing the sky.
“What was that?” Arthur demanded, his grip tightening frantically around his father’s wrist.
“He’s here…” his father whispered.
The color drained completely from the older man's face. His eyes filled with an absolute, paralyzing despair. The very air around them grew heavy, toxic, and suffocating—as if whatever had just crossed into their realm was an entity that simply did not belong in this world.
Suddenly, the battlefield fell dead silent. The clashing of steel, the screams of agony, and the thunderous magical explosions all vanished in a heartbeat.
Then came the tide.
The ground beneath their feet was violently engulfed by a rushing flood of crimson.
“Wait, what happened…?” Arthur’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper as he looked down. A torrent of bright, pure red blood was surging from every direction. It wasn't the black, corrupted blood of demons. It was human. Hundreds of lives had been extinguished in a single second.
Before Arthur could process the horror, his father violently shoved him aside.
“Arthur, you have to get out of here!” his father ordered, his voice cracked with panic. “Whatever that thing is—it’s not something you can handle. Run. Run as far as you can and drag any survivors you find with you. I’ll buy you time!”
“No!” Arthur roared, planting his feet into the bloody earth. “I’m done running! I’ve been running my entire life. That is exactly how my friends got killed… because I was a coward!”
“You are not a coward, Arthur!” his father shot back instantly, grabbing him by the shoulders. “There was nothing you could have done for them. You were just a child—you still are! It wasn’t your fault. It was nobody’s fault. The demons caught us by surprise that day, but you survived!”
The moment the sentence left his father's lips, the piercing screech tore through the air again.
Only this time, it was right on top of them. The ground bucked violently as the deafening sound echoed, accompanied by a synchronized thumping that vibrated through Arthur's chest—the sound of thousands of invisible, monstrous feet marching straight toward their position.
A colossal silhouette detached itself from the shadows of the forest, revealing an imposing entity the height of a house. It boasted a massive, muscular frame, a long spiky tail that whipped the earth, and withered, leathery wings. A single, jagged horn stretched toward the sky above rows of razor-sharp teeth, and its dark, hollow eyes locked onto the survivors.
“So, you resisted my magic? An exhausted child and a withering old man… Impressive,” the entity muttered, its voice shaking the ground.
Behind the creature, a demon clad in heavy black armor dropped to one knee. “Commander, we have razed every village in this kingdom to the ground… but we still cannot find the Omniscient Codex.”
“Then why are you standing here? Get back out there and tear the earth apart!” the commander scoffed, baring his teeth. “Useless trash.”
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The entity turned its gloomy gaze back to Arthur and his father, a twisted grin spreading across its face. “Well, I suppose I have a couple of playthings to amuse me before you both die.”
Arthur’s father violently shoved him once more, panic cracking his voice. “Run, Arthur! Now! I’ll hold him!”
But Arthur stood his ground. He didn't budge an inch. Instead, his fists violently erupted into bright, roaring torrents of golden fire.
His father stared at him, completely bewildered. “Arthur, please! I am an old man. Unlike me, you have a long and bright future ahead of you. Just do as I say… just this once!”
Arthur didn't take his eyes off the demon. A cold smirk played on his lips.
“The only things bright are my fists, Father.”
“You are making a mistake, Arthur,” his father muttered, his voice tightening.
“I have many mistakes and regrets,” Arthur replied, his eyes locked onto the giant entity. “But this isn’t one of them.”
Before the final word left his lips, Arthur charged.
A ravenous swarm of lesser demons lunged from the shadows to intercept him. Arthur didn't even flinch. He unleashed a violent surge of magic, setting everything around him ablaze. The sheer, apocalyptic heat radiating from his body instantly evaporated the crimson flood beneath his feet, turning the charging demons into screaming pillars of ash in one fell swoop.
Ba’al’s gloomy eyes widened in genuine shock. “The golden phoenix flames… What are you?”
The colossal demon commander took a heavy step forward, his spiky tail whipping the air. “Allow me to introduce myself, child. I am Ba’al, Commander of the Armies of Hell. Appointed by the Sovereign of the Underworld himself to lead this crusade.”
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Ba’al approached Arthur slowly, his deep voice carrying a dark, seductive magic. “If you join us, we can grant you anything your heart desires. We can resurrect your fallen mother. We can bring your dead friends back from the grave. Everyone you have ever cherished and lost… they can walk this earth again.”
Arthur didn't say a word. He didn't need to.
Instead, he slammed his foot down, sending a devastating wave of golden fire ripping through the earth. The flames engulfed Ba’al’s massive legs, incinerating the flesh and bone instantly. The house-sized demon crashed heavily into the dirt, entirely immobilized.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU INSOLENT BRAT?!” Ba'al roared, his voice trembling with a mixture of agony and rage.
Black smoke billowed from his stumps as Ba’al desperately tried to trigger his demonic regeneration, but the wounds refused to close. The golden fire had completely cauterized his healing factor.
“So… you really are the one His Majesty warned us about,” Ba’al whispered, the realization sending a chill through the air. Slowly, the monster pushed himself up using his massive hands, a sinister, jagged smile spreading across his face. “The King of Hell will be ecstatic when I personally bring him your head.”
A deafening crack echoed through the forest as the surrounding trees suddenly fractured, crashing to the earth and sweeping a thick shroud of dust into the air. As the haze dissipated, a massive, suffocating army of hell revealed itself—thousands of monstrous eyes gleaming in the dark, completely encircling Arthur and his father.
Arthur’s father clenched his teeth, his knuckles turning white as he formed a tight fist. Instantly, dozens of complex, glowing magic circles erupted into existence, floating in a protective halo around his body.
“Well… if we’re going to die, we might as well drag as many of these bastards down to hell with us as we can,” his father muttered, his mana flaring.
“We’re not going to die. Not here, Father,” Arthur replied coldly.
He raised his hands, his fingers dancing through the air in swift, intricate gestures. In response, the torrent of golden fire twisted abnormally, reshaping itself into massive, roaring serpents of flame that hissed and coiled, hunting down their prey.
Ba’al roared in absolute fury, and with that single command, the entire demonic army surged forward like a tidal wave of claws and steel.
The clash was a symphony of destruction. Arthur controlled his golden fire snakes as if he were standing before a grand orchestra, effortlessly dismantling the vanguard of the demon army with every wave of his wrist. Beside him, his father pushed his aging body to its absolute limits, raining a ceaseless barrage of hellfire from his floating magic circles.
As the bloody battle dragged on, Ba’al threw back his head, laughing with a twisted, amusing delight. “Impressive! Impressive! Fight for your miserable lives, mortals!”
Suddenly, a suffocating, pitch-black smoke began to emanate from Ba’al’s towering frame, instantly rotting the fallen trees around him into ash. Pushing off the ground with his massive hands, he began hurling a barrage of dark, corrupted flaming boulders straight toward Arthur and his father.
Arthur didn't panic. With a swift updraft of his hands, he summoned a towering wall of golden flames, intercepting the dark artillery in mid-air while simultaneously sending his fiery serpents ripping through the remaining demon ranks.
Wave after wave, the demonic horde fell and disintegrated into drifting soot, until the only entity left standing was the lone, heavily injured commander.
“You are good, Arthur… no, great! You are the greatest human I have ever faced!” Ba'al threw his head back, laughing with an amusing, wicked delight.
“But I must cut our playtime short,” Ba’al purred. With a sharp snap of his clawed fingers, his massive frame collapsed into a torrent of black smoke, fading entirely into the gray sky.
“I told you I could handle them, Father,” Arthur said, a rare, relaxed smile touching his lips as he turned back.
The smile instantly died.
To his horror, his father was slumped heavily against the collapsed brick wall of a destroyed home. The rugged man was panting violently, his chest heaving as he fought for every single breath. He looked completely and utterly exhausted.
Arthur sprinted to his side, catching him before he could hit the dirt and frantically trying to help him stand.
“I think… I pushed myself too hard,” his father uttered, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He leaned all of his weight against Arthur, his eyes growing dull. “My mana reserves… they are completely depleted.”
Several months later...
The quiet ring of steel against timber echoed through the morning air.
Arthur stood in a clearing, his chest bare and glistening with sweat under the warm sunlight. With rhythmic, effortless power, he swung a heavy iron axe down, splitting a thick log perfectly in half. He tossed the pieces aside, adding yet another bundle to the massive pile of chopped wood beside him.
A few moments later, a rugged, familiar voice broke the rhythmic sound of the axe.
“Arthur! Come here for a second!” his father called out.
Arthur paused, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm before jogging back toward their small house. He pushed the heavy wooden door open, his breathing steady.
“What is it, Father?” Arthur asked.
As he stepped into the dim interior, he found his father sitting quietly at the wooden dinner table. In his weathered hands, the older man held a small envelope of exceptionally intricate and elegant design. A delicate golden outline traced the edges in a flowing floral pattern, held closed by a small wax seal shaped like a heart made entirely out of a brilliant ruby.
“This is for you,” his father said, sliding it forward.
Arthur stared at the luxurious parchment. “What’s this?”
“It’s a letter from your aunt,” his father replied, his eyes softening with memory. “She knows that I can’t afford to send you to a place like that on my own… and she wants to fulfill her promise to your mother. Her sister’s dying wish. Your mother’s final wish.”
Arthur reached out, taking the heavy envelope from his father’s hand. With careful precision, he slowly broke the ruby heart seal and slid the parchment out, his eyes scanning the elegant cursive.
A moment of heavy silence filled the room.
Arthur looked up, his brow furrowed in genuine disbelief.
“You’re sending me to school?”
To Be Continued...